


Little Things

by mediwitch3



Series: Small Dick Buck [1]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: (not between buck/eddie), Ambiguous Relationships, Bullying, Canon Compliant, Frottage, Getting Together, Grinding, Hazing, Insecurity, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Relationship Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Small Penis, Soft Eddie Diaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25176139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediwitch3/pseuds/mediwitch3
Summary: Buck always thought he’d grow.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: Small Dick Buck [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830223
Comments: 35
Kudos: 281





	Little Things

**Author's Note:**

> The average penis, when erect, is between 5-7 inches.
> 
> I'm so sorry.
> 
> Find me on tumblr @michaelgrantnash

Buck always thought he’d grow.

And he did, a bit.

But when by seventeen he was six foot two, and still only three inches long, he was starting to wonder if he was just—destined to be small.

Being tall made him _look_ even smaller, so much so that he started changing in the bathroom during gym. Other guys were standing around measuring dicks, which Buck had other issues with to be honest, and the _last_ thing he wanted was for someone to make him whip it out.

He didn’t even wanna think about how small he is when he’s not hard.

When he (inevitably) starts sleeping with girls, none of them really seem to mind. He gets them off fine with his mouth—most of them apparently prefer that anyway.

By twenty-three, he’s mostly come to terms with it, though he’s still mildly self conscious around other men.

The first man he sleeps with actually laughs, and Buck feels shame burn down his whole body as his hands twitch in to cover himself.

The other man stutters out an apology between gasping breaths, says, “It’s not you, I swear!”, but Buck knows that it is him, so he gets dressed and leaves without another word.

The fire academy _sucks_. It’s pretty hard to avoid being naked around other people in the locker room, drenched in sweat after a long day or in the communal showers where people stand around chatting shamelessly.

He tries to avoid eye contact, but he notices a few smirks aimed below his navel when he goes to wash off the grime of the day.

“You must be a hell of a grower, Buckley,” says Jones, and when Buck glances at him, assessing, he’s half-hard and huge between his legs. Buck raises a brow.

“And if I’m not?” He asks.

Jones laughs. “Then I feel sorry for the girls you’ve been with.”

“I’ve never had any complaints,” Buck says, and shuts off his shower, “In fact, the complaints I do get are about guys like you, who never learned that a big dick doesn’t mean you don’t have to work at sex.”

“Don’t have to work at ‘cause it comes naturally,” Jones smirk, cups himself, and despite the negativity surrounding the conversation, Buck feels himself twitch a little.

He blows out a breath, puts his hands on his hips and stares him down. “Usually when guys says that it means they never noticed their girls faking it. You ever heard of the clitoris?”

Jones’ face morphs into something angry, heavy brow dropping over his dark eyes. He’s a few inches shorter than Buck, and Buck’s not the scrawny seventeen year old he was the last time he was in a locker room—the fire academy’s made him bulk up and now he’s (mostly) enormous, towers over Jones in a way he knows would be imposing if their dicks weren’t out.

He takes a step forward, chest tensed like he might hit Buck, and Buck rolls his eyes.

“I’m not gonna fight you cause you have a size complex,” he says, and turns to leave before the situation can escalate.

When he starts at the 118, he’s nervous.

Part of it is the whole “saving lives” thing, and part of it is because it’s a new place with new people—but the main reason he’s nervous? The clear locker room.

Who the _fuck_ puts glass walls on a locker room?

At the very least, the shower area has stalls with curtains, so he takes his clothes in with him and puts his underwear on under the towel on his way back out.

Nobody seems to notice, and he does a pretty good job of keeping his little secret—

Right up until he meets Eddie.

It’s not exactly a secret that Buck has issues with guys, okay? They all like his body right up until his pants come off, and then he gets laughed at. The hotter they are? The more likely they are to be a dick—pun _definitely_ intended.

So seeing Eddie for the first time, through the stupid glass walls of the locker room, looking like sin personified, sets Buck’s teeth on edge.

Buck being attracted to Eddie makes his idiot macho posturing one thousand times worse—he _knows_ this. But he can’t help it—he’s hot, he’s smart, he’s calm under pressure, he’s been nice even in the face of Buck’s immaturity—what more could you want in a man?

They’re in an ambulance with some moron who shot a grenade in his leg, and Buck says something stupid, wants Eddie to understand that _he’s_ competent too, that you don’t have to be in battle to have experienced life or death situations when Eddie—

“What are we measuring here, Buck?”

And it’s so nonchalant, but Buck deflates instantly, doesn’t want to go down this road _again_ , knows Eddie wasn’t twisting the knife in Buck’s biggest insecurity on purpose, but still wants to just—be anywhere else.

But then Eddie smiles, and says “you could have my back any day”, and Buck’s tired, and he _wants_ , so he just.

“Or you know, you could—you could have mine.”

And Eddie laughs, and Buck knows he’s in Big Trouble.

—

Buck makes a mistake.

It’s Hen’s birthday, and they’re all at a bar, and they’ve all been drinking, and Buck’s _drunk._ He’s not driving, and he’s not paying, so he’s just been slinging them back without counting.

So he’s struggling a little, quick to laugh and spilling over the other people in the booth, Eddie in particular because he _loves_ Eddie, he’s so pretty and nice and his cheeks are so round—

“Oh my god, Buck, _shut up_!”

Buck blinks, looking over at Chimney, who’s sitting next to Buck’s sister and rolling his eyes like he’s heard this all before, which is impossible because Buck would never say that out loud.

“You are, man.”

Buck looks at Eddie, who’s grinning down at him where Buck’s propped his chin against his shoulder. He can see the grain of Eddie’s stubble.

“I am?”

“You are.” Eddie doesn’t sound mad, just amused, so Buck doesn’t think too hard about it, just squints at him in the dim light of the bar.

“I think I have to pee,” he says, and Eddie laughs.

“Okay,” Eddie tells him, and pats Buck’s arm, “Get up then.”

Eddie steadies him as they climb out of the booth, steers him back towards the bathroom with a big hand on his waist.

It’s empty, so Buck forgoes the stall, where he usually pees so he doesn’t get the little snorts people make when he whips out his dick. Eddie stands with his back to Buck, hands in his pockets, whistling.

Buck’s hands feel numb, like he’s wearing oven mitts, and he frowns down at the zipper that won’t cooperate.

“Buck, are you okay?”

Buck’s brow dips lower, and he bats at his pants again. “I can’t do it.”

“Can’t do what?”

“The zipper.”

Eddie snorts. “Do you want help?”

“Yes please,” Buck whines, and tips his head back to see if the room will stop spinning.

Eddie comes over and figures out the zipper on the first try, which Buck thinks is kind of unfair but also very sexy of him. Eddie snorts again—Buck must still be talking out loud.

“You are,” Eddie says, and his voice is soft and fond, makes Buck’s shoulder’s loosen, “Can you take it from here or do you still need help?”

Buck tries to stick his hand through the hole in his pants, but it doesn’t fit. “I think they’re broken.”

Eddie laughs. “They’re not broken you’re just drunk.”

It takes a second, but he gets Buck’s dick out, and it doesn’t register until the head is being cradled by Eddie’s fingers that Eddie’s seeing his dick for the first time.

And Buck _should_ be too drunk to be embarrassed, but the blood is rising in his cheeks and his chest feels hot and tight and he’s honestly _scared_ of the reaction Eddie’s going to have to Buck barely peeking out of the zipper.

But he doesn’t say anything, so Buck just pees, and Eddie tucks him back in and does his zipper up and goes to wash his hands without a word.

And Buck’s very confused.

—

On the one hand, Buck’s kinda relieved at Eddie’s lack of reaction—it’s what he’s always sorta hoped for and never gotten. Not from strangers, not from lovers, not from Abby, even.

So the silence is suspicious.

And Buck, despite his many virtues, is not an incurious person. He’s honestly a little desperate to know what’s going on in Eddie’s head about this.

So he asks. Because mama _did_ raise an idiot, apparently.

“You’re not gonna say anything?”

Eddie looks over at him. They’re on the couch, lights dim, movie on low because Christopher’s asleep, and Buck honestly think’s Eddie was getting close to dozing as well. He blinks at Buck. “Say anything? About what?”

“You _know_ what,” Buck insists, tries to convey with his eyes what he’s talking about. Eddie raises a brow.

“No, I really don’t.”

“Eddie.”

“Buck.”

“ _Eddie._ ”

Eddie throws up his hands. “How on earth are you frustrated with _me_ right now?”

“About the other night, I mean,” Buck says, and twists his fingers together. Eddie rolls his lips together, breathes out through his nose.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, you were just drunk and I—“

“No, not that,” Buck interrupts, shakes his head, “I appreciate you not letting me pee myself—I was more referring to um.”

“Um?” Eddie prompts, after Buck’s been quiet a moment. He takes a shuddering breath, blurts it all out at once.

“I was referring to my _size_.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Your size.”

“Eddie,” Buck whines, has to cover his face with his hands to hide his glowing cheeks, “don’t make me say it.”

Eddie sighs. “Well, I _was_ wondering.”

“You were?” Buck peeks out at him from between his fingers.

“Didn’t you used to call yourself firehose?”

Buck’s startled into a laugh. “What did you want me to call myself, Small Dick McGee?”

Eddie snorts, and his cheeks are flushed too, his brown eyes bright in the low light of the room as he looks at Buck. “It’s not that bad.”

“It’s _not_?” Buck asks, incredulous. His heart is pounding hard in his chest. “Did you _see_ it?”

“I mean,” Eddie shrugs, mouth quirked in a little smirk, “only a bit.”

Buck narrows his eyes, unsure if what he thinks is happening is what is actually happening. “Oh? Do I need to show you again?”

Eddie licks his lips, tongue darting out in a brief flash of pink that leaves a wet line behind, and oh yeah, Buck’s in business. “Only if you want to.”

Buck stands without a word, pops his button and waits for Eddie to say “just kidding!”, but he doesn’t, just looks at Buck with dark eyes and loose hands.

So Buck draws his zipper down, feels his palms sweating, watches Eddie watch him, eyes glued to Buck’s hands dragging his pants off his hips. He leaves them around his thighs, takes a breath, and yanks his underwear down to join them. He waits for a reaction—any reaction. But Eddie just stares, and Buck can’t help the way his cock twitches and starts to fill, growing maybe an inch to full hardness, flushed pink at the tip.

Eddie licks his lips again, shifts a little in his seat. “Are you hard?”

He sounds breathless, and it freezes the air in Buck’s lungs. “Um. Yeah, I am.”

Eddie sucks a breath through his teeth, making a tiny, unintentional whistle as it catches on his canines. He sits forward, reaches a hand out and stops an inch from Buck’s bare cock. “Can I?”

Buck swallows, his chest hot and his underarms damp under his shirt, nods. He watches as Eddie lets his hand connect with Buck’s cock, wraps his fingers around it. Buck’s always found it hard to jerk-off that way, his hand stays too loose for something so small, and Eddie seems to understand this quickly. He presses Buck’s cock against his stomach, and Buck whines, knees buckling. Eddie makes an odd sound in his throat, half a moan, swallowed, and drags Buck forward by the hips so he falls into Eddie’s lap.

“Can you get off this way?” He asks, voice lower by an octave and rough. He hasn’t looked away from Buck’s cock since it was revealed.

“Yeah,” Buck breathes, rolls his hips so his cock grinds against the bulge in Eddie’s pants. It sends a jolt through his belly, makes him clench his abs and do it again.

Eddie puts a hand between them, the other guiding Buck’s hips to roll against him, flexes his hand against Buck’s cock for just a little bit more friction. Buck’s sweating all the way down his chest, feels in his balls it won’t take long—he hasn’t been with anyone since Ali, and that was… he doesn’t even remember. Eddie grabs his balls and his cock in a handful, squeezes and rolls, and Buck’s hip jerk forward again and again until they stutter to a halt. Buck’s mouth drops open, and he holds his breath as his orgasm rocks through him, feels it in his chest and his cock and his teeth, has to fall forward and slant his mouth over Eddie’s as his cock spits out come.

Eddie groans, the sound rattling though his mouth into Buck’s, and Buck swallows it, sucks Eddie’s tongue into his mouth and lets him fuck into it as his own hips roll a bit. Buck reaches a hand between them as Eddie kisses him again, licks over his teeth and counts them, and he pulls out Eddie’s dick. By feel, he’s significantly larger than Buck, but in the moment, Buck doesn’t care. Just pulls and pulls and sucks on Eddie’s tongue until Eddie comes between them, splatters over Buck’s hand and shirt.

They trade lazy kisses, cocks still out and pressed together, sticky all over. Buck breathes deep, and feels unselfconscious for the first time—maybe _ever_.


End file.
